Harper Valley Sex Stories
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Harper Valley Sex Stories
The source of this story is Storiesonline
Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 1 - What goes on behind closed (high security) doors, in the very best of houses, you just wouldn't believe!
“Well this is just a little Peyton Place
and you’re all Harper Valley hypocrites”
So sang Jeannie C. Riley way back in 1968, in the song written by C & W star Tom T. Hall, that propelled her to the top of pop charts worldwide. The lyrics are as applicable in 2020 as they were almost fifty-one years ago.
Much as I would like to admit that the contents of this book were inspired by the song itself, such is not the case. Nor do I imagine either Tom T Hall or Jeannie herself would wish to be associated with what is inescapably adult literature. The fact is, that without going into unnecessary detail, certain real-time events paved the way for this series and it was simply the association of young girls currently attending High School, that recalled to mind the lyrics of Harper Valley PTA.
That said, I remain deeply appreciative of both Jeannie C. Riley and Tom T. Hall for their collaboration on this timeless classic.
I’m still in shock. Major league, brain-cell frying disorientation type shock! Fact is, I have now a whole new slant on the education system or at least, the home education system. Problem is, I now have to make one crucial decision.
It would doubtless come as no surprise to all but the voluntarily cloistered few, that at some stage or other, the average father looks at his daughter or daughters and thinks...”yummy!” Many, I am sure (and you can count me in here!) reflect beyond the “yummy” stage to the “what if?” stage or if, like mine they are just too cute for their own good – the “can we do anything about this” stage?” Given the facts as laid out in an earlier tale (published elsewhere) one can see that any such contemplation was circumstantially grounded by “opportunity” which ultimately opened up a new family-career path.
A while back now, the co-ed High School my daughters attend, held one of their regular parent/teacher nights. One fronts-up to a regular procession of Math, History, English and Science lecturers who not that long ago would never have made it past the first interview for a teaching position. They drone on about the importance of assessments, percentile bands, re-vamped syllabuses and vocational guidance, while you sit there thinking “What a fucking idiot!” Once in a while I have broken up the drudgery by asking them if they know what an archaeopterix is – only ever found one who did ... science professors included!
However I digress. Between appointments for specific teachers I found myself chatting to other parents, whilst Jenna, then still 17, my youngest, was talking to her girlfriends. One such conversation began after a father, a little younger than myself, had been watching Jenna for a while before speaking to me,
“You have a very pretty daughter you know.”
Deciding not to punch him out then and there, I was on the verge of saying “Yeah, and I wouldn’t mind fucking your’s either,” when I realized he may not have had one. So I just said “Uh-huh, thanks. Yep, she is a little sweetheart.”
At that moment a rather cute little blonde sidled up to him and muttered,
We got to talking and comparing notes. Michelle I discovered is also in her final year but in a different grade- stream to Jenna – they know each other recognizably but have never spoken. I noticed that her father levelled many a secondary glance at Jenna before asking what struck me as a weird question.
Not entirely sure what he meant, I simply replied that she goes out quite a bit with girlfriends. She has, like most seventeen year-old girls at High school, her own little clique.
Well this guy – he introduced himself as Jerry Clarke - was sure taken with the subject of young girls, he must have singled out at least half a dozen in the room for some personal comment or other.
“Ever thought of “doing it” with one of these girls?” he whispered.
“Yeah,” I replied, “And the 20 years in the slammer afterwards.” I added.
“Not necessarily,” was the cryptic response.
Right then, his number was called and his daughter collected him. Before he left, he asked if I’d like to have a cappuccino with him at the local mall the following Saturday morning. Having no particular reason not to ... I agreed.
I don’t think I’ll ever see a cappuccino in quite the same way again.
It didn’t take him long to get back on his topic of choice ... young girls. I wondered if he was compiling a University thesis. Somehow we got on to the subject of what a tease they can be (as if I hadn’t noticed) ... the need to spank them sometimes (now that was a subject close to my heart!) But it was at the point he asked me once again, if I had ever thought of doing anything with any young girls that my ears pricked up (not just my ears either!) Thinking it best not to mention anything that could later be used against me as evidence, I merely said that I had “thought” of doing lots of things ... what father hadn’t if they are honest?
He persisted. “If you had the opportunity though ... would you?”
“Depends on the opportunity,” I answered honestly.
He looked around the coffee bar almost furtively.
“What would you say if I told you there were quite a few fathers locally who held these “parties” where young girls – albeit in their final year and having turned eighteen, attended and where pretty much “no rules” as such, apply. He winked as he enunciated the last sentence.
“I’d want the address,” I replied, wondering where the hell this was heading.
Jerry then went on to explain that he was part of a circle of parents, almost all of them at my daughter’s school, who held these bi-monthly parties on a rotation system and at which a condition of entry was that “after a preliminary induction” every father wishing to go, must bring his own daughter. I asked the obvious question...”What about the mothers?” His reply of “Oh, several girls are taken by both parents,” just blew me away! It also sent my imagination into hyperdrive.
“So you’re telling me Jer, a houseful of teenage girls, are stripped and made to have sex with other men while their moms and dads watch???”
“Not made to,” he said. “They are more than willing and its not just with the other fathers – they have sex with their own dads as well, sometimes their moms too. That PTA night we met, at least five of those girls there attend these parties regularly.”
Convinced he was joshing, I just mentioned that I had to go as I had a fair few things to attend to.
“Well?” he said, “You want to at least come and have a look?”
Curious beyond belief, I said “Sure ... when? ... where? But I’m not bringing any daughter.”
“No, that’s fine,” he replied, “No-one does the first time they go. The next party is next Thursday. Don’t have the venue yet, ‘ll call you.”
With that, he left. I had two more cappuccinos!
Jerry rang me the following weekend and made arrangements to pick me up just after lunch. My kids were all out doing other things which worked in well. There was always the cellphone if anyone needed me.
Some fifteen minutes north of my home is “Millionaire’s Row” as it is colloquially known. An exclusive suburb best described as semi rural. Multiple adjoining five/ten acre blocks each with room for a decent airstrip. Three million might just buy you the cheapest homestead up there. A few of the girls from the college lived up thataway I knew, having taken both Jenna and Kylie there for the odd birthday party. Privacy certainly wasn’t an issue in Windsor Hills, a modern (and expensive) north-western suburb of Sydney, Australia.
Michelle was seated in the front with her Father and I found the conversation somewhat heavy going, realizing that she must obviously be an active participant. What do you say to a pretty eighteen-year old girl on her way to a sex party? “Do you fuck here often?”
For her part, Michelle seemed as relaxed and normal as any teenager on her way to the shopping mall. She smiled at me when I got in and was chatting away to her dad the whole trip. Dressed in a hot little skirt and top, I wondered if that was some kinda “uniform” they were all expected to wear?
As Jerry pulled into a drive-way, I had my first coronary. I knew the place – it was one of the houses I’d brought Kylie to a few months earlier. Several hundred yards long, the drive gave way to a tree’d courtyard where ten or eleven vehicles, mainly 4-wheel drive monstrosities, were arrogantly clustered about the main entrance. Jerry backed-up between two huge pine-trees and the three of us exited. Michelle was holding her father’s hand I noticed.
We were welcomed by a man who I recalled as hosting the birthday party I had brought my daughter to. He obviously recognised me too. When introduced by Jerry he said “We’ve met before haven’t we?” I nodded.
Inside, we were ushered-in to an enormous room they could have staged the ninety-second Academy Award in. Tables were scattered about with nibblies, drinks and what have you, while a dozen or so groups of chairs were clustered around the wall. Its what was on the chairs caught my eye. Girls! – handpicked pretty ones by the look of it. The greater majority were in short skirts, but a few had on nice dresses and others were wearing tight jeans with mid-riff tops. Of greatest concern, I recognised a couple of girls from Jenna’s grade – God, does she actually know about all this I wondered?
As Jerry had mentioned, there were indeed a few mothers seated with their daughters and I counted at least three sets of what were obviously husbands and wives. Perhaps most staggering was the fact that all these people were basically middle to upper class families, absolutely none of whom would you be expecting to see at such a venue. Mind you at this juncture, I had still no idea what exactly the program for the afternoon’s festivities was likely to be. But for the young girls, It looked for all the world like an up-market Tupperware party about to kick-off.
I noticed one or two men who like myself appeared to be unaccompanied and who were standing uneasily along the far wall, either with a friend or smiling at whoever glanced at them.
Wondering how this was going to “begin” as such, and at that stage, people were still coming in – ostensibly men, accompanied by one or two girls who presumably were their daughters ... I noticed a couple of girls leave their seats and cross to other small groups. One cute little brunette, who couldn’t have turned eighteen by more than a few hours, sat herself down on another man’s lap while he was talking to a young woman in her thirties. He put his arm around her, said something I couldn’t hear, then kissed her on the lips. The woman took hold of the girl’s hand and smiled at her.
I was jolted out of my reverie. “Her name is Chantelle,” Jerry continued, “That man is her best-friend’s father. If you look over there,” he inclined his head to the far side of the room, where the girl had been sitting, “That’s her best friend Nadia, sitting on Chantelle’s dad’s knee.”
Other girls now appeared to be moving around the room, several fathers too, leaving their own daughters and heading off to their chosen quarry. Not all though, one man I noticed across from us and who had just walked in, began kissing the girl he had brought. She was responding with quite some passion.
I caught Jerry’s attention and pointed out the couple...”Are they?...” He anticipated my question.
“Yes, that’s his daughter Brittany. Hot isn’t she?”
“Hot” didn’t cover it by a long shot. In one of the tightest and shortest skirts on offer there, as she stood on tip-toe to kiss her father, his hand dropped to her curvy bottom and began just rubbing it affectionately. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing ... but I wanted to see more!
Michelle I noticed, had left her dad too and was over with a small group to our left. A man in his late thirties had his arm around her as they chatted. My mouth was drying up, no doubt about it.
I turned my head. Occasionally you see something you have difficulty in accepting, however much you might want it to be happening. I was having one such epiphany! As Chantelle sat on her friend’s father’s lap, the woman who had been holding her hand began surreptitiously pushing the girl’s skirt up. She then slipped her hand right up between her legs and it looked to me like she was rubbing her panties. The man said something to her as the girl wriggled noticeably.
There was something clearly wriggling in my own trousers at this stage.
Both of them were now intently involved with the little brunette. The woman eased Chantelle around until she was straddling the man ... obviously her husband. For his part he was now not only kissing her but had one hand up under her top and by the look of it, was fondling her breasts. His wife pulled the girl’s skirt higher and was openly now rubbing her hard between her legs through her fully exposed dark blue knickers, her arms encircling the girl’s waist and hips. The girl appeared to be murmuring something ... I couldn’t hear what.
Brittany’s father had been joined by a second man. As the girl French-kissed her father, the other man stood behind her, kissing her neck and bringing his hands up under her arms to commence fondling her breasts. The father said something to him, after which he stopped fondling her but reached down and taking hold of her hips, began easing her skirt upwards. I noticed Brittany clearly pushing back with her bottom into the man’s crotch which although I could not see from the front, must obviously have had something there she liked. By the time her panties were exposed, I was needing a paramedic.
Variations on these themes were being played out all over the room. Girls were being kissed, fondled ... even tickled, wall to wall. One girl I noticed in a hot little blue dress, was lying on a guy she had pushed back on one of the lounges and he had his hands all over her as she openly rubbed herself on him while he kissed her.
Jerry I noticed had headed off to his daughter’s group where Michelle was now seated between two men, one of which had another girl sitting prettily on his knee. I couldn’t see what, if anything was being done to either of them.
Such was not the case with Chantelle’s friend Nadia however. I stared open-mouthed as Michelle’s father undid her top, removed it and then pulled the girl’s bra straps down her arms, fully revealing the sexiest pair of little nipples which he began to suck in earnest – first one side, then the other. The girl looked across to her own father who smiled back at her obviously fully approving. He was busy enough himself, helping a young red-head divest herself of her light green panties. For the girl’s part, she appeared to have her hand inside his zipper and she definitely wasn’t looking for a Malteser!
At one of the small groups further along the far wall, two men and a woman were intent on watching the progress of two hot-looking blonde girls – they may well have been sisters - who were being encouraged to kiss one another while one was having her jeans pulled down and the other, her skirt pushed up. Obviously the mother of one of them, the woman was helping out with the jeans while another man was whispering something to her as he fondled her breasts.
Just away to my right, another effusive little blonde who I recognised as Brianna – one of Jenna’s classfriends and who comes over to our place once in a while, was being stripped by a tall man who I knew was definitely not her father. He had her down to her bra and panties and was in the process of unhooking her front clasp. I figured I may as well start somewhere. Brianna knew I was there, so I may as well do something! Besides, I thought she was the hottest little thing the first time Jenna invited her over.
As I approached, the man looked up – I don’t think he had planned on any assistance. Brianna though smiled at me.
“Hello Mr Baker ... you haven’t been to any of these parties before have you?” I shook my head.
“No ... and nor should you have missy.” I teased her. She gave the sexiest little smile.
As the man unhooked her and exposed her breasts, he simply said “Name’s Chris,” and offered his hand. I took it, gave my name and turning back to Brianna asked the dumbest of questions. “Would you let me pull those panties down sweetie?” Even Chris looked at me like not all of my dogs were barking.
I think she was the first one to get nude ... and boy was it worth it! Beautiful little figure, curvy hips, firm breasts with “suck-me-before-you-do-anything-else” nipples. Chris beat me to it on that score. But the real prize lay there fully exposed now. Cutest little pussy surrounded by wispy blonde hair that formed a delicate protective triangle just a little higher up. I had such a hard-on ... mainly because I was unavoidably imagining seeing my own daughters being stripped the same way. God what would I have given at that moment to see that?
I dropped to my knees and nuzzled little Brianna’s pussy with my face. She was making all sorts of funny little noises – when I licked her, she made a whole lot more. “Let’s fuck her,” said Chris, somewhat indelicately I thought, pulling her over to a spare lounge. Still, you couldn’t fault the man’s logic.
I looked around ... and felt more chest pains! Several girls were down to their last stages of clothing ... most notably their panties. Funny how men like to leave that till last isn’t it? The two blonde girls that had been kissing were now separated and seated on two guy’s knees besides one another. One girl had a hand in her panties, the other was being held by the arms while another man was attempting to pull her knickers off. Her mother was otherwise engaged with some girl’s father who, having gotten her down to just her knickers, was sucking her breasts one at a time and generating some serious moans. I would have kept watching but there was too much going on. Nadia was naked and being pushed backwards on the carpet as Chantelle’s father continued to kiss her. Chantelle herself was in a far more interesting position. The man had his impressive appendage out while Chantelle lay full length on his wife, clad now only in her undies. It looked to me like the woman was rubbing the girls breasts with her own while her husband had two vaginal options immediately open to him (as it were) Doubtless he took both.
Chris meanwhile had had all the fun with Brianna – I figured it was my turn. Getting him to sit in a spare chair, I got him to hold her front-on to me with her legs spread. He was happily occupied fondling her breasts while I licked her several more times. Brianna was moaning by then - if I had been a girl, I probably would have been too – in anticipation! She had her legs spread to the limit and was fully prepped I have to say.
I didn’t so much get my erection out as “unchain it.” I’m not that big, but there again, I never had a solitary complaint. Placing the head at her very wet vaginal entry, I reckon I showed remarkable restraint in not simply raping her stupid. Fact is, I wanted her to enjoy it as much as me. As I pushed in, I felt the tightness of her young pussy despite the fact it had obviously borne considerable in-bound traffic in recent times. She was wriggling about on Chris’s lap, pushing forward with her little hips and completely given over to it. The old maxim “They don’t make ‘em like they used to,” never carried less relevance.
It was then Chris’ turn. It was at this juncture – holding her on my knee, feeling her hot little curvy ass, fondling her breasts and kissing her neck, sweet-smelling blonde hair full in my face and seeing Chris enter her, that I realised I was seeing all this happen to Jenna and Kylie. Try as I might, I could not shake the image.
After Chris filled her again (he wasn’t much slower than me) Brianna lay against me breathing he
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